


Collateral Damage

by carolinecrane



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-06
Updated: 2009-09-06
Packaged: 2017-10-23 12:04:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/250086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolinecrane/pseuds/carolinecrane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Greg has a close call and Nick discovers there's a limit to his willingness to turn the other cheek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Collateral Damage

He's never thought of himself as the violent type. He's never been in a fight before, not even back in his fraternity days when drunken brawls were just another way of passing time. Even when he was a kid his mother always called him the peacemaker, and he must have taken it to heart because he always, _always_ ended up playing good cop when he was still on the force.

That used to get him laughed at a lot, but he never really minded. He still doesn't mind the Good Cop image; it comes in handy on the job, after all, and it takes a lot to get him to lose his temper anyway. Guys who hit women, perverts who like kids, dumb punks who don't take responsibility for their actions – those are the kinds of things that can make him lose it, and even then he's never actually hit a suspect. Turns out he can add another trigger to the list, though, and when he feels his fist connect with some random guy's jaw he knows he's in way over his head.

He doesn't even think before he hits the guy again, making sure he's down before he turns to look at Greg. And he expects the shock on the other man's face, but he ignores it and focuses on the fingers pressed against one side of Greg's jaw. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Greg answers in a slightly awed voice. He rubs his jaw experimentally, like he's not really sure he's okay after all. "I think so."

Nick nods and looks back down at the guy lying on the floor of what was supposed to be an empty apartment, belatedly realizing he never stopped to wonder if the guy was armed. His heart pounds even harder against his chest as he tries not to think about what would have happened if the guy had shot Greg instead of just coldcocking him when they walked into the apartment.

He stares down at the prone form on the floor, registering that it's the former tenant, the one the cops haven't been able to track down since they found his girlfriend strangled and tossed in a ravine. Nick draws his weapon, glancing once over his shoulder at Greg to make sure he's really all right. "Go out to the truck and call Brass," he says, his voice less steady than he was hoping for. "Tell him we found his suspect."

Greg nods and heads toward the door, and Nick sees him looking back over his shoulder as he opens the apartment door and heads back to the parking lot. Nick wants to tell him to look where he's going, to remind him that this is how they got into this mess in the first place, but Greg's still new at this whole CSI thing and Nick doesn't want to make him feel any worse than he already does. Still, they're going to have to sit down and have a long talk about procedure and Greg's bad habit of not watching his back as soon as possible.

It feels like forever before Greg finally comes back; the guy on the floor hasn't moved yet, and Nick's starting to wonder if he should check his pulse. He doesn't think he hit him that hard, but his hand hurts pretty bad and he's not sure taking a guy out in two punches is a good sign.

"Is he…?"

"He'll be fine," Nick answers, as much to convince himself as to reassure Greg. "Glass jaw."

Greg nods and lapses back into an uneasy silence, and Nick swallows a sigh and promises himself they're going to have that talk as soon as Brass comes to get his suspect. Greg shouldn't be this nervous in the field, not after three months of training and the amount of time he's spent in the crime lab. And sure, it's a little different comparing DNA results than it is actually collecting evidence, but if Greg's going to be this skiddish every time something goes wrong he'll never last as a CSI.

That thought bothers Nick for a reason he doesn't want to think about, not while his heart's still racing and his arms are starting to ache from holding his gun on the guy who jumped them. After what feels like an eternity he hears sirens, and a few minutes later the room's filled with noise and Brass is firing questions at Nick and a shell-shocked Greg. He thinks having the cops here should make him feel better, that being able to hand the guy off to somebody else should calm him down. Only his heart's still racing, and even though he's answering all Brass' questions he can't stop himself from glancing over at Greg every three seconds.

"You guys get what you came for?" Brass asks, and Nick snaps his gaze back to the older man for the tenth time.

"No," he answers, shaking his head to chase away the lingering image of Greg looking a lot younger than Nick knows he is. "He jumped us as soon as we got here, I knocked him out and Greg called you. Nobody's touched anything."

"Good, good," Brass says, like Nick doesn't know about contaminating a crime scene. He doesn't roll his eyes, but his jaw clenches and suddenly he feels like hitting Brass too. He wants to blame this on Grissom for sending them back to the apartment to look for more evidence they probably aren't going to find, wants to blame Brass for not catching the guy before he found his way back to their crime scene. But mostly he wants to shake Greg for putting himself in the line of fire, even though he knows it's not anybody's fault.

"So are we done here?"

"Yeah," Brass answers, waving them off with one hand as he glances down at his notes. "Go get your hand looked at. I'll call Grissom and tell him what happened."

Nick nods and grips Greg's bicep a little too hard, steering the other man out of the apartment. He doesn't stop until they're back at the truck, out of sight of Brass and the uniforms he brought with him. When they reach the truck Nick lets go of Greg's arm and drops his kit on the pavement, but he doesn't unlock the door right away. Part of him thinks he should go somewhere and calm down first, send them both to their separate corners until he can get a handle on the adrenaline still pumping through his system. He knows this is the worst time to do this, while Greg's still keyed up and he's…he's not even sure what he's feeling.

"Do you need to go to the hospital?" he hears himself ask, his voice far away like he's floating above himself. He reaches up and touches Greg's jaw gingerly, watching carefully so he'll catch it if Greg flinches under his touch.

"I'm okay." Greg's hand comes up and catches Nick's, pulling it away from his face and looking down at his damaged knuckles. "You're bleeding."

For the first time Nick realizes that he is, that he hit that guy harder than he'd thought and he's probably going to be in trouble when Grissom finds out. He knows he should care, but right now it doesn't even register. All he can think about is the wall of red that blurred his vision when he saw that guy's fist connect with Greg's jaw, and the second, even more terrifying wave of anger when he saw how scared Greg was.

"Forget it," he says, his voice gruff as he pulls his hand out of Greg's. It doesn't matter that he's hurt; his knuckles are a little scraped up is all, it's nothing that some ice and a few days won't heal. What matters is that Greg's not ready to be out here, or maybe he's just not ready for Greg to be out here. It's barely been any time at all since the explosion; just a few months, and already everyone's acting like it never even happened.

He remembers, though; remembers the way Greg looked lying in that hospital bed, so small and alone. He remembers how sick he felt when they wheeled Greg out on the stretcher, and he remembers that he couldn't bring himself to go to the hospital again after that first time because he wasn't sure he could be there without breaking down. At the time that had seemed like the best approach, because they worked together and he couldn't afford to let a bunch of messy feelings get in the way of doing his job. So he'd left Greg alone and he'd tried not to picture him all by himself in that room, and he'd been doing fine until that scumbag jumped them and tried to knock Greg out.

He laughs at that, because Greg in the hospital with chemical burns was a hell of a lot worse than the bruise he's going to have on his jaw in the morning, and it just figures Nick would get it backwards. He should have been there for Greg then, even if Greg didn't want him, and now that Greg's hurt again all Nick can think about is punishing him for being in the wrong place at exactly the wrong time.

Greg's looking at him like he's crazy now, and maybe he is, because he's not sure what he's doing. He knows he should drive them to the hospital, make Greg sit still long enough for a doctor to make sure he's really okay. But he looks okay, and he feels pretty good pressed up against Nick. He's not sure when that happened, but now that Greg's pinned between him and the side of the truck Nick's not in any hurry to move. It's reassuring, feeling Greg's chest rising and falling with each breath, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides like he's not sure what to do with his hands.

Nick can think of a few things, and he knows he can't chalk it up to adrenaline when he leans forward and kisses Greg for the first time. He swallows Greg's gasp and buries a hand in spiked hair, angling his head just enough to fit their mouths together without doing any more damage to Greg's jaw. He finds himself wondering how long they could have been doing this, how soon would have been too soon to make a move. He can't think of a time when Greg hasn't been around, flirting in that way Nick never took seriously until Greg's tongue slid into his mouth for the first time.

He lets out what can only be described as a growl and pulls back, frowning sternly at the dazed, breathless man in front of him. "If you ever pull something like that again I'll kill you myself, understand?"

Greg starts to nod, but when Nick's words actually sink in he blinks and mirrors Nick's frown. "Me? How was I…?"

That's as far as Nick lets him get, because he doesn't want this to turn into another fight right now. He's already been in one fight tonight, and as far as he's concerned that's one too many. Instead he fits his mouth over Greg's again, careful not to do any more damage than absolutely necessary. He knows his timing couldn't be worse and that he's probably hurting Greg even if the other man isn't inclined to complain, but he needs to do this. He has a feeling they both need this, because Greg's kissing him back with just as much enthusiasm as Nick always imagined he would, and his hands have finally found purchase on Nick's hips.

He knows they're going to have to finish this conversation later, but Nick's hoping for much, much later. Like possibly after their shift, after Nick's taken Greg home and fed him and spent a few hours showing Greg exactly how serious he is about this. He's not planning to let Greg out of his sight for a long time, not until his heart stops racing and he stops picturing that guy with a gun or a knife instead of just a fist landing squarely on Greg's jaw.

Tomorrow is plenty of time to have this conversation, in fact, because he has a feeling Greg's jaw will be too sore tomorrow for him to put up much of an argument, and Nick's known him for long enough to know a speechless Greg is something he's going to have to take advantage of while he has the chance.


End file.
